


Half Moon

by kristhaswaggerdaddy



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Blood, Depressed jongin, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Mild Gore, New York City, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-03
Updated: 2017-05-07
Packaged: 2018-09-28 02:40:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10066823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kristhaswaggerdaddy/pseuds/kristhaswaggerdaddy
Summary: Kyungsoo doesn't know he's dating a slightly depressed, self-depracating vampire.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This took 5ever to type on my phone idk how nuha does it  
> Sorry for those who waited and this is some unbetaed b grade shit imo  
> Ending is a bit weak, some vague bits... But i got it out of my system at least

Jongin had always hated his true nature.

  
It wasn't so much about being a vampire as it was about looking at the people around him as a potential meal. He hated that part about himself the most, something that was more fundamental than a personality trait. It was his basic instinct, a part of him that he could never change, and Jongin clung desperately to what he thought of as his humane morals because of that. He didn’t believe in unnecessary death, and certainly did not want to start picking up a terrible habit that would cost him his territory and most importantly, Kyungsoo.

  
Kyungsoo was the chink in Jongin’s already faulty armour. Two hundred years on this earth and he’d thought he’d seen it all, but Jongin had never met anyone like Kyungsoo. He was the twinkle of rare, blue starlight on the darkest of nights, the only kind of light he could stand without going up in flames like the sinner he was. Kyungsoo made him smile in impossible situations. Kyungsoo made Jongin feel like there was a purpose to his eternal life.

  
Kyungsoo meant everything to Jongin, which was dangerous for someone of his kind.

  
Common sense dictated that Jongin should’ve left him alone a long time ago for the good of everyone involved but... he couldn’t bring himself to. Kyungsoo was so human in every way, and Jongin would be lying if he said he didn’t wish he could just become normal again.

  
Of course, being normal and feeling normal was easier said than done.

Jongin felt like a wretch tonight, coming home to Kyungsoo’s apartment in the dead of night with the taste of his latest kill still fresh on his tongue. The coppery, thick flavour of blood lay heavy in his mouth. Jongin wasn’t looking forward to facing Kyungsoo like this. He was a monster, period, and he didn’t deserve half the love Kyungsoo showed him, even though he craved it like a drug.

  
Jongin stopped at the door to Kyungsoo’s apartment, hand poised to knock. He tried not to think about the man he’d just killed tonight; a jogger, puffing and panting noisily around Central Park like he _wanted_ to be Jongin’s next meal. Normally, he tried not to kill his victims but Jongin’s diet, unfortunately, didn’t allow mercy. If he forced himself to stop halfway through feeding, which meant leaving the victim comatose but more or less alive, by the next day he’d be ravenous, eyes glowing a feral red. The hunger would bury itself deep in his bones like a disease. And he could not, would not face Kyungsoo like that. Anyone in their right mind would run for the hills the second they looked him in the eye.

  
The jogger's body would probably be found the next day or so. Police would chalk it up to a sick murderer, slashing throats and draining victims of their blood just for the show of it but Jongin would always know better. 

  
Rubbing his face with his hand, Jongin took a deep breath that he didn’t need and knocked on the door. He could already hear Kyungsoo cooking inside, probably some pasta dish he’d just seen on Food Network. Jongin would eat two platefuls, just to make Kyungsoo happy, even though he didn’t need to eat food to stay alive. Not being able to digest food was a common misconception of vampires; he could, he just chose not to, on the days where he could avoid it.

  
Kyungsoo's footsteps pattered over to the door. Jongin hung his head low, unsure of how he would be feeling tonight.

  
A Netflix marathon and some popcorn would do him good, but if Kyungsoo was in a boisterous mood for Charades or Scrabble, then he was going to have to shake these thoughts off. Kyungsoo was awfully perceptive, even though Jongin was supposed to be a master at masking his true emotions and Kyungsoo was supposed to be, well. A lot less smarter than he should be.

  
“Hey there,” Kyungsoo greeted him upon opening the door. Jongin looked up, a half smile on his face. It widened when he met Kyungsoo’s gaze, warm with affection. God, Kyungsoo was just so beautiful sometimes.

  
Jongin dipped his gaze back down to his feet when Kyungsoo tugged him in, their fingers tangling. Dark hair fell across Kyungsoo's forehead, and Jongin's fingers itched to sweep it behind his ear.

“Hey,” he murmured in reply. Kyungsoo shut the door, and Jongin huddled closer to him, hugging Kyungsoo tightly around the waist.

  
Kyungsoo made a content noise, hugging him back. “Tough day, Jongin? No worries, because I’m willing to bet my day was worse. Today Mr. Oh stopped in with that son of his and I thought I was gonna have to threaten to _sue_ him to get him to leave me alone,” Kyungsoo snorted.

  
Just like that, Jongin felt his worries falling away like shedding old skin. He listened as Kyungsoo spoke in that adorable Brooklyn accent of his, a inescapable twang in his words. Jongin had never been able to really pick it up even after living in the city for over fifty years. He supposed he had to earn it, like a badge.  
“...and I’m tellin' him, ‘You can’t just say ‘I wanna tap that ass,’ to someone’s face. You ain’t got no game, you know? You’re not gonna get laid any time saying that,” Kyungsoo was saying while setting the table. Jongin nodded intently, placing tablemats and coasters for the both of them.

  
“But you can never tell these Upper East Side kids. Give them a thousand dollar a month allowance, and they think the whole world owes ‘em somethin',” Kyungsoo sighed, bringing a big pot of hot pasta over. Jongin’s nose was right; carbonara was on the menu tonight, with a twist. He could smell the extra heaping of parmesan cheese in the sauce, and herbs he’d never smelled before. Kyungsoo must have gone grocery shopping before Jongin came over.

  
“They’re shallow, Kyungsoo. They don’t know better, because that’s how life works for them,” Jongin said distractedly, taking a large heap of pasta and sliding it onto his plate.

  
“Yeah, but,” Kyungsoo huffed a laugh, helping himself to the pasta as well. “You know what, you’re right, Jongin. I need to take a chill pill and sit down. I’m just grateful Sehun doesn’t stop by very often.

“Let’s talk about you instead. I’m always hoggin' the spotlight,” Kyungsoo rolled his eyes with a smile. Jongin coiled some pasta around his fork, shaking his head while he said, “No, I’m always interested in your day.”

“But I wanna hear about your day. I feel like you do too much listening and I talk too much,” Kyungsoo protested. Jongin laughed, though inside he prickled uncomfortably. Due to his adversion to sunlight, Jongin couldn’t work a nine to five job as Kyungsoo did (he worked as a secretary in a real estate agency). However, to maintain a sense of normalcy, Jongin lied and told Kyungsoo he worked in a cannery in upstate New York as a human resources officer. In actual fact, Jongin was a professional gamer, betting real money and winning rounds online. It was a surprisingly lucrative business that made him just enough money to take Kyungsoo out, though he could earn more if he wanted to. And so far, the cannery ruse was working because Kyungsoo was under the impression that the cannery had very strict rules prohibiting the use of mobile phones during working hours. It was only times like these when Jongin was certain his lies would cave in one day.

“Nothing much. Same old, you know?” Jongin said, avoiding his gaze by shovelling food into his mouth.

  
“Oh, c'mon. Not even something funny like, I don‘t know, someone tripping over their feet?” Kyungsoo complained.

  
“No,” Jongin said uncertainly, “definitely nothing as bad as harassment in the workplace.” Kyungsoo laughed aloud, shaking his head at Jongin.

  
“God. Fine. Well, at least ya have a conducive workplace where you can actually work without getting distracted. Nothin' at all like my place,” Kyungsoo said, and laid a hand casually over Jongin’s.

  
He paused for a moment, then wrapped his fingers around Kyungsoo’s hand, continuing to eat.  
-  
At night, Jongin laid in bed wide awake, listening to the slow intake of breath beside him. Kyungsoo’s heart was slow too, beating thirty beats per minute. He was probably deep in sleep now. Jongin didn’t have the heart to snuggle up against him, just in case it woke Kyungsoo up. It was still a working day tomorrow and Kyungsoo could get pretty cranky without his eight hours of sleep.

  
Instead, he focused on the small details, the cracks on the ceiling and the faint noises of traffic somewhere far off in the city. New York was abuzz despite it being well after midnight, and he wondered sometimes, how little he’d changed, while the city was constantly changing, constantly filling up with more and more people.

  
Jongin turned to look at Kyungsoo, who looked young with his eyes shut. His dark hair was even darker at night, a mess of ebony against the pale blue of his sheets.

  
Jongin couldn’t believe this man sleeping next to him represented his entire world. Heck, he couldn’t believe Kyungsoo let him sleep in his bed, not when Jongin could sometimes see a purple vein tracking its way down the side of his neck faintly. It pulsed occasionally, became apparent when Kyungsoo was stressed or angry.

  
It looked tantalizing, hovering just below the surface of his skin—

  
Jongin had to force his gaze away, something he’d had to do many times before. “Fuck,” he cursed under his breath, blocking the sound of Kyungsoo’s heartbeat in his ears. He loved Kyungsoo, but the endless hunger, the black hole in his soul wanted more. His inner instincts wanted to end Kyungsoo, and if he hadn’t fed before coming over... Jongin was loathe to think what could happen, what would always be a possibility for as long as he was with Kyungsoo. Yet on the inside, in his heart, Jongin just wanted to be with Kyungsoo, in sickness and in health, in uncertainty and inevitability.

  
Jongin looked at Kyungsoo again, angry at himself for being unable to tear his gaze away from the pulse at Kyungsoo’s neck. Here Kyungsoo was, trusting Jongin enough to let him sleep beside him and all he wanted to do was sink his teeth into Kyungsoo.  
Jongin got up.

  
He looked around for something to do to distract himself, to take the edge off his thoughts. There wasn’t much aside from reading a book or cleaning the apartment. He wished he was a smoker or something, even though he was flammable. At least he’d have something else to focus on.

  
He washed his face. He rearranged the magnets on the fridge. He opened up the fridge and snuck a few bites of blueberries. He went out to the balcony, seriously considering jumping down two stories head first to see if he’d die from it. Then he changed his mind. It would be unfair to mar the memories Kyungsoo had of this apartment. It wouldn’t do to make Kyungsoo think it was his fault in any way.

  
So in the end, Jongin walked out of the apartment, unable to face Kyungsoo any longer. He went out into the night, locking the door securely because the last thing he wanted was for Kyungsoo to be robbed.

  
New York at night was cold, but it felt even colder than usual now that he was, in a sense, abandoning Kyungsoo and the warmth of his apartment. He thought about the days where they would take midnight walks, neither of them willing to go home. Jongin thought about his first night staying at the apartment, awed that Kyungsoo trusted him enough to invite him into his bed. He thought about the last time they went to see a Broadway play, and he remembered thinking he was damned to hell for having fallen in love with a human. Because of his very nature, he had no absolutely no right to reach out Kyungsoo at all.

  
But of course, he wanted Kyungsoo anyway.

  
He looked up at the sky, spotting the moon hanging over Brooklyn like a nightlight. Only a precise half of it was illuminated tonight, which was exactly how Jongin felt inside. He was an empty hollow, nothing but a half without Kyungsoo.  
-  
Kyungsoo woke up, feeling bereft to find the bed unsurprisingly empty. He had heard Jongin going to the bathroom last night, and he suspected he must’ve left not long after that.  
Jongin did that sometimes, without any warning. Granted, he was a little sullen last night but Kyungsoo hoped it wasn’t anything to do with him. He hated it whenever Jongin was sax, because then he’d smile a lot less, and Kyungsoo loved to see Jongin smile.

  
Maybe I’ve been talking too much, Kyungsoo thought. Wouldn’t be the first time he offended or made someone feel unheard. And it wasn’t intentional at all, he just felt safe with Jongin. Like he could talk about anything under the sun and Jongin would still get him and not make him feel like he was being irrelevant.

  
Kyungsoo sighed, checking his phone on the dresser. No messages from Jongin. Again, not unusual for Jongin, but definitely unusual if this were a normal relationship. He got ready for work, getting dressed in his suit. Kyungsoo relished in the process of getting ready for the day. Felt like he was preparing to face the world through his appearance, one step at a time. And when he was done, he felt more ready to text Jongin now, to apologize in case an apology was in order. He prepared some cereal for breakfast, texting with one hand.

  
Kyungsoo: _hey_  
Kyungsoo: _u ok? U left early and i missed u :c_

  
He gave it ten minutes, chewing on his cereal and ignoring his phone in favour of the news channel. When he came back to it, Jongin had replied.

  
Jongin: _ur up early_  
Jongin: _yea, im sori, i rmbed i had smtg to do in the office_  
Jongin: _dinner was great tho_

  
Kyungsoo noticed that Jongin didn’t say anything about missing him back. Something was up for sure.

  
Kyungsoo: _u sure u ok babe?_  
Kyungsoo: _did i say smtg wrong? I’m sorry if i did.._  
Jongin: _no im not mad...._  
Jongin: _juz tired n busy rn. Ttyl?_  
Kyungsoo: _sure. Love u_  
Jongin: _love u 2_

  
Kyungsoo set his phone down, unsure of where he stood with Jongin now.  
-   
Kyungsoo came home at 8, bone tired and worn out from the day’s work. He practically stumbled through the corridors of his apartment, nearly tripping over his shoes. He would have to order in tonight, probably Chinese because there was no way he could cook when he was sore in all the wrong places. The past day had been a blur as was yesterday; paperwork kept pouring in onto his desk, and he'd been unable to escape it.

In a way, work was good because it provided a much needed respite from overthinking about what was going on between himself and Jongin. He had not heard from Jongin since yesterday morning, though he hoped that was because Jongin needed time alone and would get back to Kyungsoo once he felt like it. In any case, Kyungsoo was too worn out to dwell too much on the matter. 

  
He was not however, entirely sore to the point where he didn’t notice that his door was unlocked. It hung ajar, a sliver of darkness visible inside. Kyungsoo stopped dead in his tracks, wondering if he’d just been robbed or if someone was going to pop out from behind his own door and murder him in cold blood.

  
Kyungsoo set his briefcase down on the ground, taking off his jacket as well. He inched to the door carefully, straining to hear— anything. The sound of heavy breathing other than his own, a creak, the sound of a gun cocking. Anything, apart from his own heartbeat loud in his ears. Kyungsoo could hear nothing at all, except maybe faint sobbing, but that could just be his neighbors watching a melodrama on TV. Fisting his hands, Kyungsoo found the courage to push his door wide open, fully expecting a thief or a serial killer to jump out.

Nothing happened.

  
Though anticlimactic, he wasn’t going to let his guard down easily and flicked the light on first. Again, nothing seemed out of place. He maintained his kung fu stance anyway, ready to kick the someone in the balls if need be. He kicked off his shoes haphazardly, and that was when he noticed a pair of flip flops that were as familiar to him as his own shoes.

  
He dropped his hands, exasperated. “Jongin,” he called loudly.

  
“Christ,” he muttered, going back out to get his things. He had forgotten all about the fact that Jongin had a copy of his apartment keys. There was no response from him in the place but he went in anyway, setting everything down. Perhaps Jongin had fallen asleep waiting for him.

  
Kyungsoo pattered over to where he last left his house slippers, then went in search of Jongin. He peeked in the bedroom, spotting no one but empty sheets ans his reflection in the mirror. Kyungsoo frowned. Where else could he be?

  
Kyungsoo went into the closet next, even shoving his clothes aside in case Jongin wanted to scare him, but still nothing. He could still hear the weeping from somewhere in the building, which was a little creepy but he shrugged it off. Getting a little more than irritated, he finally headed to the bathroom, the last room in the tiny apartment that could hide a person.

  
While walking, he stepped on something wet. Kyungsoo looked down to see a plop of something dark coloured, like molasses. He wrinkled his nose in disgust, figuring Jongin must’ve been eating something and entered the bathroom to get a cloth.

  
He took one look into the bathroom, and gasped involuntarily when he finally saw Jongin in the bathtub.

  
“Jongin?” he cried, taking a step towards him. The sobbing he’d heard from outside had not been his neighbours, but his own boyfriend’s quiet sobs, shoulders shaking with the force of his emotions. Bizarrely enough, Jongin was covered in what smelled like blood, red staining the front of his shirt and face. The stench of it was impossibly heavy in the air, forcing Kyungsoo to gag. Kyungsoo stumbled to the edge of the bathtub, reaching out to touch his arm.

  
“Jongin, what’s wrong?” Kyungsoo asked, panicked.

  
“I— I was hungry,” Jongin hiccuped, tears streaming down his face. There was so much blood that Kyungsoo couldn’t tell where his tears began and where the blood ended. There were more half dried stains along the sides of the tub, leaving him to wonder just how long Jongin had been sat here.

  
“Jongin, how did you get so much blood on you? Are you hurt somewhere?” Kyungsoo asked, though as far as he could tell Jongin wasn’t injured in any way. It was a relief to know he was physically okay, but mentally? Kyungsoo was starting to freak out. Jongin never cried.

  
“I wanted to, I tried not to kill her,” Jongin sniffled, “I got too hungry, a-and I killed her,” Jongin said, before breaking out into more sobbing, a hand over his bloody face.

  
Kyungsoo sat back on his haunches. “You... Killed somebody?” he asked, feeling a little faint.

  
“Who— no, okay, where’s the body, Jongin?”

  
“Don’t let them take me away,” Jongin’s hand suddenly shot out to grab Kyungsoo.

  
“They’d kill me,” his voice dropped to a stricken whisper. Kyungsoo should’ve been disgusted at Jongin, bloodied and having just confessed a sin to Kyungsoo. He wasn’t, not because it was Jongin, but because he’d never heard of a killer who was this sorry about taking someone’s life.

  
“I’m not,” Kyungsoo said honestly.

  
“There has to be... Some kind of explanation. Right? We'll have to get you cleaned up first, Jongin, are you okay with that?” His answer came in silence, Jongin lying back against the tub in a limp position.

  
Kyungsoo figured that was a yes, so he rolled up his sleeves and shucked his slacks, getting into the tub that was meant for only one person. He turned on the shower, and began to rinse Jongin of the blood caked onto his skin in splotches. It all washed away as Kyungsoo worked in the half darkness, rubbing at his clothes, arms, face and body. The warm water ran a light brownish-red, too much for it to be a joke. Jongin was in a bad way, and Kyungsoo couldn’t turn away from him, not when he came all the way to Kyungsoo's apartment and clearly needed help.

  
When he was sufficiently clean, he coaxed Jongin gently out of his wet clothes and left them in the tub. He soaped Jongin up briskly, and washed it all off. Then he got a towel and dried him off, leaving it wrapped around Jongin’s head. He was quiet the entire time, perhaps feeling introspective. Judging from the blood, Jongin had a lot of thinking to do.

  
“Let’s head to the bedroom,” Kyungsoo suggested, holding out a hand to Jongin once he was out of the tub. Jongin looked up at his outstretched hand forlornly, looking so sad and pathetic that Kyungsoo had to smile.  
“C’mon baby. We can talk in there,” he said softly.

  
After a beat, Jongin got up on shaky legs and trailed behind Kyungsoo quietly, following his lead. Kyungsoo flicked on a lamp, not wanting to turn on the usual lights in case Jongin wanted to sleep later on. He sat Jongin down on the bed, getting his bathrobe from behind his bedroom door and bundling Jongin with it. He seemed warm enough, so Kyungsoo finally clambered onto the bed and hugged Jongin tightly, kissing his temple.  
“What happened?” he murmured.

  
“I was hungry,” Jongin rasped.

 

“You wanna get something to eat? I’ll call for Chinese—”

  
“Not like that.”

  
Kyungsoo paused. “Hungry how, then?” he asked, confused.

 

Jongin blinked at him sadly. “I’m not who you think I am,” he said shortly.

 

“You shouldn’t even help me. I’m dirty, I’m filthy, I have to kill just to stay alive, I’m not human—”

  
“Whoa, Jongin, slow down,” Kyungsoo said, holding Jongin’s face in his hands. He still couldn’t see him as a killer, not when his eyes were soft brown and his lower lip quivered, new tears threatening to spill.

  
“Jongin, what are you saying?” he murmured softly, kissing Jongin lightly on the lips. Jongin shut his eyes, tears running down his face. Kyungsoo tasted it on his mouth and noticed it was a little saltier than he thought it would be, with a faint after taste of copper.

  
He leaned back, swiping at Jongin’s eyes with his thumbs. “Oh baby, what’s going on?” he whispered.

  
“I killed a woman tonight,” Jongin whispered back, shaking beneath Kyungsoo. “She died because I couldn’t stop myself.”

  
“Stop yourself from what?” Kyungsoo asked, carding fingers through Jongin’s wet hair.

  
Jongin looked away. “From who I am. From what I am.”

  
Kyungsoo touched his chin, turning Jongin back to face him.

 

“Jongin, you’re not whatever you think you are. You’re,” Kyungsoo shrugged, “my boyfriend. The guy who gets me. I don’t care what you might’ve done tonight. You’re still the same to me, Jongin. I still love you.”

  
“You shouldn’t,” Jongin said harshly. Then he looked at Kyungsoo in the eye, eyes an impossible red and Kyungsoo sucked in a deep breath.

  
“Don’t you ever wonder why I always skip out on brunch dates? Why I never see you during the day, and why I don’t have any colleagues? I’m a _vampire_ , Kyungsoo. I feed every day, I have to because if I don’t, I’m going to kill you someday and then I’ll never be able to live with myself. Today was a perfect example, of course. If it had been you...” Jongin trailed off. 

  
Kyungsoo fell quiet. They’d been dating for about a year, having met at a bar late one night. It was true, they’d never met during the day but they were both busy and it was always just more convenient to see each other after sundown...

  
“Vampire, huh?” Kyungsoo said.

  
“Show me your teeth,” he said, because this couldn’t be real unless he had the fangs. Jongin bared his teeth, and Kyungsoo saw the canines above his normal set of pearly whites. They were sharp, tapered to a curved point like that of a snake.

  
Kyungsoo felt oddly turned on, but supposed this wasn’t the right time to say so.

  
“So you got too hungry tonight. And you killed a woman by accident?” Kyungsoo said, to be sure. Jongin nodded.

  
“Oh God, Jongin, it could’ve been so much worse,” Kyungsoo laughed, more out of relief than out of humour. There was nothing funny about this, but... This explained a lot. Why Jongin was sad on some nights more than others. 

  
“You tried to stop, Jongin, that’s the whole point. You’re not a monster if you feel remorse.”

  
“It’s against nature—”

  
“That’s what a lot of people would say about us being together, Jongin,” Kyungsoo said dryly, “and I’m guessing you haven’t killed someone before. So you must’ve had some kind of control, right? It’s... normal, Jongin. You may not be a human, but... You’ve still got human emotions. Not everyone can be perfect, baby, not even you.”

  
Jongin began to tear up again, dropping his head into his hands.

  
“What is it now?” Kyungsoo asked, rubbing Jongin’s back. He felt Jongin’s sadness wracking throughout his entire body, shaking against him. Kyungsoo thought there couldn’t possibly be anyone more human than Jongin. He was crying himself sick over something he couldn’t control, and Kyungsoo knew people out in the world who had a lot less of a heart than Jongin did. No, he wasn’t going to let Jongin self-destruct.

  
“How could you possibly, possibly empathize with me? I’m— the worst, and I could kill you, Kyungsoo—”

  
“But you won’t, will you? Because you love me,” Kyungsoo said, “and I love you, Jongin. I don’t see you any different, and I don’t see why I should.”

  
Jongin lifted his head and kissed Kyungsoo, deep and long on the mouth. He placed a hand on Kyungsoo’s neck, directly over his pulse and tugged him close. Kyungsoo wrapped his arms around Jongin, to let him know he wasn’t going anywhere.  
“You love me,” Jongin whispered, over and over again between kisses, “you love me.”

  
“I love you,” Kyungsoo nodded, “I always have.”

  
“Even when I’m.... like this?”

  
“Everything about you, Jongin,” Kyungsoo said, kissing him sloppily, “I’d never change a single thing.”

  
“Tell me you love me again.”

  
And Kyungsoo did. He held Jongin in his arms the entire night, his own kind of magic right there in his bed. He held Jongin, because he would never let go.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One night, Jongin stays too late and almost brings his nightmares to life.

“Hey,” Kyungsoo’s voice murmured in Jongin’s ear. A hand on Jongin’s shoulder shook him gently, and he stirred from the warm clutches of sleep.

Jongin took a deep inhale, out of habit rather than out of necessity. Sleep began shift off Jongin like shedding old skin. His eyes slowly slid open, and adjusted to the ambient light in Kyungsoo’s living room. He became aware of a weight upon his lower body, a weight which he was familiar with. Jongin smiled.

“You been waitin’ all this time?” Kyungsoo whispered, lowering his head for a kiss. Jongin’s hands found their way around Kyungsoo’s waist as he kissed Kyungsoo back soundly.

“Mm,” Jongin hummed, fingers sliding beneath Kyungsoo’s shirt to caress at the soft skin there. He didn’t think there was any better way in the world to wake up; being able to hold Kyungsoo and feel his warmth, the pressure of his mouth on Jongin’s.

“Sorry, babe. It’s really late now,” Kyungsoo murmured into Jongin’s ear, kissing a trail along his jawline. Jongin barely heard him, thumbs stroking circles on Kyungsoo’s hip bones. Kyungsoo giggled, kissing the corner of Jongin’s mouth. Jongin dipped his head to kiss him properly, Kyungsoo’s unique scent of baby powder underlined with sweat reaching his nose.

“Is it too late?” Jongin asked, pulling away to look at Kyungsoo.

“Too late for what?” Kyungsoo frowned. He was still in his office shirt and tie, his collar unbuttoned. He looked endearingly haphazard, with his hair all mussed up after what must’ve been a long day for him. It was a sight that tugged at Jongin’s heart even though it longer beat in his chest. _You_ , Jongin thought, _you make me feel alive._   

“Too late for this,” Jongin smiled, hands reaching down to press Kyungsoo’s butt against his groin.

Kyungsoo threw his head back and laughed aloud. The light above his head cast a halo around his figure, light shadows tracing every hollow and curve. Jongin thought the light was perfect for Kyungsoo’s skin tone as well, giving him a slight flush. He also thought that it brought the blues, reds and purples on Kyungsoo’s neck—

Jongin blinked and looked away. Kyungsoo was saying something, a buzz in Jongin’s ears. He abruptly stopped midsentence, looking down on him curiously.

“Jongin, your teeth…” Kyungsoo said softly, a hand reaching out to touch him. Jongin snatched his hand out of the air, and felt a pinprick on his tongue. He tasted blood.

“I— It’s late. I should…” Jongin trailed off, not wanting to say the words. He knew Kyungsoo knew the words he left unspoken, had always understood why Jongin had to disappear every day at sunset for at least a few hours. But it was late. Jongin had woken too deep into the night, which meant he had yet to feed.  

“Shit, I’m sorry, Jongin, I totally forgot,” Kyungsoo said, his Brooklyn drawl further accented by his distress, “I should’ve called ahead t’let ya know, so you could go out and—”

“No, it’s fine,” Jongin said shortly. Kyungsoo got off him, and Jongin sat up slowly, feeling his fangs receding back into his gums. The thin blanket he’d draped over himself earlier in the afternoon when he curled up on the sofa to wait for Kyungsoo lay crumpled over his legs. Kyungsoo stood there, anxiety stiffening his spine straight.  

“Do you wanna go out now?” Kyungsoo asked, glancing out the window. Jongin shook his head. He didn’t need to look at the clock to know it was well into the night, probably past 1AM. There wouldn’t be anyone on the streets, or at least, the kind of people who didn’t carry guns or knives on them. Jongin was immortal, but he wasn’t infallible, and there was far too much risk in attacking someone at this hour.

And Jongin knew very well what stretching out the wait would do. Jongin remembered that night when he was covered in blood and tears, cowering in Kyungsoo’s bathtub. He remembered the kill, far too vividly on some days.

He’d expected Kyungsoo to throw him aside, to cast him out like a leper. Instead, Kyungsoo had only accepted him, loved him, even when the news of a corpse found in Central Park entirely drained of blood came on TV in the morning. It only served as a reminder to Jongin that he couldn’t lose control like that again. The woman he’d killed could’ve easily been Kyungsoo. It was something that could not be repeated.

“I guess I probably have to go,” Jongin said, “try my luck tonight. Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow, Soo. It’s late, and you should sleep anyway. I’ll probably wake you if I come back later…”

Kyungsoo’s crestfallen expression was enough to make Jongin silent. “But I don’t want you to leave,” Kyungsoo said, almost petulantly.

“I have to,” Jongin smiled tiredly, “I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“But you won’t,” Kyungsoo said, going down on his knees to clutch at Jongin’s hands, “you won’t hurt me if… if you feed on me.”

Jongin widened his eyes. “ _What_? No, that’s not a possibility, Soo—”

“Wait, Jongin, just think about it! You can’t go out _now_ , you’re not gonna find anyone to feed from safely. It’s too dangerous, even for you,” Kyungsoo said, “and I know you’re not gonna make it till morning. But you don’t have to go through that if you just take a little bit of my blood, just enough till the sun comes up.”

The look on Jongin’s face was ashen, as if he couldn’t believe Kyungsoo’s audacity to suggest such a thing.

 _But is it so terrible?_ Kyungsoo thought, _all I wanna do is help you._

“No,” Jongin said, already on his feet before Kyungsoo realized it. “I won’t risk it.”

“Then you’re going to risk yourself out there? Jongin, you know there’re people on the streets with guns an’ whatnot. Damn it, Jongin, you can’t die, but you could still get hurt—”

“Better me than you,” Jongin said, a hand curling under Kyungsoo’s chin to tilt it upwards. Jongin’s warm gaze made Kyungsoo swallow hard, despite himself. He didn’t know why he never noticed how Jongin’s beauty was almost unnatural. There was no way a man could look this fragile and yet be so strong at the same time, without some kind of divine intervention.

“I can stop you,” Kyungsoo said, voice more even than he felt, “if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Jongin’s brows furrowed together. “Stop me from leaving?”

“No,” Kyungsoo shook his head, “stop you from taking too much blood from me.”

There. He’d said it, those dreaded words. He knew how much Jongin hated talking about blood and death, but there was no way around it. No way if he continued to be so unreasonably stubborn about this.

“I don’t want to, Kyungsoo. You don’t understand how serious this could be. If I keep feeding off the same person, I’ll develop a taste for your blood,” he swallowed thickly, “if something like this happens again, neither one of us can stop me from attacking you.”

Kyungsoo took a step towards him, unmindful of the way Jongin stumbled backwards as if Kyungsoo had just shoved him in the chest.

Kyungsoo grabbed a handful of Jongin’s shirt and yanked him close, looking up at him. Only the surprise of it kept Jongin at close proximity; Kyungsoo could feel the resistance of his body and knew that Jongin could turn away from him easily if he wanted to. Kyungsoo’s strength was nothing against Jongin’s.

“I trust you,” he said plainly, putting every bit of effort behind his words, “I trust you implicitly, to not kill me tonight or any other night.”

“I don’t know where your trust comes from,” Jongin looked away from him, like the sight of Kyungsoo hurt his eyes the same way sunlight did. _He thinks he’s dark,_ Kyungsoo thought, cursed, like a fallen angel.

Kyungsoo wanted to show Jongin that he wasn’t, that his nobility and self-control set him apart from any other bloodthirsty creature.

Kyungsoo released Jongin from his grip, hurriedly undoing his tie around his neck. When it dropped in a tangle on the ground, his fingers went to the first few buttons on his shirt, deftly undoing them. Jongin stared, frozen to the spot.

“W-What…?”

“I’m offering myself to you,” Kyungsoo said simply, “take from me what you need.”

He made it sound so simple to Jongin. As simple as breathing was to a human; a need that could be easily fulfilled, and yet could be easily deprived of. If Jongin didn’t stop himself, or if Kyungsoo didn’t know his limits…

Jongin pictured Kyungsoo, dead in his arms with blood trickling to the ground. His body, pale and lifeless. The mere thought of it made him shudder.

“C’mon, Jongin,” Kyungsoo tugged his shirt to one side, exposing the curve of his neck, shoulder and the sharp angle of his collarbone to Jongin. His veins were stark beneath the porcelain fairness of his skin. They ran from his neck, disappearing and reappearing like looking through a translucent piece of paper.

Jongin had a hand out before he knew it, stroking Kyungsoo’s faint veins. “It’s alright,” Kyungsoo murmured encouragingly, taking a step forward. Jongin took an automatic step back, and found himself caught between Kyungsoo and a wall.

The smell of fresh blood was sharp in his nose now, fragrant and unyielding. This time, he felt his fangs sliding out, and his hands trembled as he gripped Kyungsoo’s arm to hold him in place.

“You promise you’ll stop me? If you feel faint, or sick in any way?” Jongin said.

“I will,” Kyungsoo said steadily, “just do it.”

Jongin lowered his head to the crook of Kyungsoo’s neck, nosing at his scent. He smelled delightful despite the fact that Jongin never wanted to describe the way someone smelled like food. But Kyungsoo’s scent called to him, beckoned him to _taste_ and he was no saint.

The bite made Kyungsoo gasp and jump a little; it was much worse than having a syringe stuck under his skin. The pain was keener, the wound felt deeper. It felt— well, like a bite. He could feel all of Jongin’s teeth on him, felt his blood draining away as his strangely cold teeth sunk further into his neck.

He stroked Jongin’s head gently through the pain, watching the lightbulb above them fragment into a thousand shards in his vision. _Must be some kind of effect_ , Kyungsoo thought, from Jongin’s venom or whatever it was.

Kyungsoo felt a little light-headed, though he wasn’t dizzy. Jongin continued to feed, and a calm unfurled in Kyungsoo, lulling him to a state of semi-consciousness. It wasn’t pleasurable, but it felt comfortable, like falling asleep on a very soft bed. Then Jongin’s teeth grazed over his skin again, his lips plush, and Kyungsoo shuddered involuntarily. He pressed Jongin’s head closer, eager to chase that sensation down—

The next thing Kyungsoo knew, he was thrown against the dining table behind him, nearly crumpling to his feet. Jongin gripped the wall before him, blood streaked across his mouth, chin and neck. _My blood_ , Kyungsoo thought with a startle of surprise.

Had he really bled that much?

“You didn’t stop me,” Jongin said accusingly, “you were supposed to stop me.”

“I— It was—”

“Rescind your invitation,” Jongin said gruffly, head dipped low. Kyungsoo was unable to see Jongin’s expression clearly, but his body language told Kyungsoo that he was mad. Mad at himself, mad at Kyungsoo. There was a loud crunch; it was Jongin’s hand. He had crushed a small bit of the wall into fine powder.

“Rescind my what?” Kyungsoo stammered.

“Your _invitation_ ,” Jongin shouted at him, looking up at him. His eyes were a bright gold, and it made him look feral, with blood on his chin. Kyungsoo thought he’d never seen anything this deadly, this beautiful ever.

“Say it. Say you rescind your invitation, Kyungsoo, before I do something we both will regret—”

The rage in Jongin’s voice was enough to make Kyungsoo waver.

“I-I…”

Jongin curled up into a ball onto himself, growling under his breath. Fear made Kyungsoo take a step back.

“I rescind my invitation,” Kyungsoo whispered under his breath. For half a moment, he’d thought that maybe Jongin needed to _hear_ him rescind his invitation but apparently, that wasn’t the case.

Jongin disappeared like smoke as soon as he spoke the words.

Kyungsoo whirled, immediately turning to the front door. He practically threw himself upon it, twisting the knob to check on Jongin. After all, having magic boot you right out of someone’s home was bound to leave a mark, but when he tugged at the door, it wouldn’t budge.

“Jongin! Jongin, are you outside?” Kyungsoo shouted, pounding on the door. The doorknob was stuck like it was locked from the other side.

“Don’t come outside,” Jongin said, voice ragged from the other side of the door, “this was a mistake.”

“No! No, Jongin, don’t leave me, _please_ ,” Kyungsoo cried, feeling tears and panic rise up in his throat. He couldn’t bear the thought of Jongin leaving him, the thought of leading a life without Jongin. It’d be empty, a half-life full of regret. Jongin had all the time in the world to find a new lover if he wanted to.

For Kyungsoo, one lifetime wasn’t enough to grieve and recover from Jongin’s love. There wouldn’t be anyone like him.

Silence was Kyungsoo’s response. He allowed himself a moment of tears, emotion overwhelming him.

 _He’s probably gone_ , Kyungsoo thought. Gone, somewhere in the city, possibly wallowing in guilt over something he didn’t choose to do in the first place. “Don’t shut me out, Jongin,” he whispered, gripping his chest. If he’d known it would come to this, he never would’ve offered Jongin blood.

“I have to,” Jongin’s voice responded, small and thin.

Kyungsoo looked up, even though he saw nothing beyond the wooden door. A sigh of— relief? Joy?— escaped his mouth. He placed a hand on the wood, closing his eyes and picturing Jongin on the other side. He could almost pretend there was another hand pressing through the wood, emanating warmth. 

“Jongin, please, don’t do this,” Kyungsoo said, wiping at his eyes with his sleeve.

“I can’t. I don’t want to go back in,” Jongin replied. His voice was indiscernible; Kyungsoo had no idea what he was thinking about.

“Why?” Kyungsoo asked, trying not to sound hurt.

There was another stretch of silence, so long that Kyungsoo thought Jongin might’ve really left Kyungsoo’s apartment building. Then there was a heavy exhale, and Kyungsoo could breathe again.

“When I stopped,” Jongin said, “I wanted more, Soo. I… I shouldn’t want more after a few seconds’ worth of blood.”

“But—”

“There’s no buts to it, Soo,” Jongin said, sounding terribly upset, “If I hadn’t stopped myself, I could’ve killed you.”

“You stopped yourself anyway,” Kyungsoo argued, “Jongin please, I love you, I’m not even hurt, we can try to work this out if you’ll come—”

“Don’t say it,” Jongin cut him off, “don’t, Kyungsoo. Just don’t.”

“Will— Then a-are you gonna come back?” Kyungsoo asked, softly this time. If Jongin needed some time alone then fine. Kyungsoo was okay with that. But he wanted to know that Jongin was okay, that they were okay and that there would be a chance for tomorrow to be normal again. Kyungsoo would never forgive himself if this undid their relationship.

“I will. When I’m better, Soo. I-I have to get a hold of myself first, before I can face you again—”

“Then come back,” Kyungsoo murmured, eyes brimming with tears again, “come back to me when you’re ready, Jongin.”

A weight leaned against the door heavily, the pressure enough to make the wood curve slightly. Kyungsoo thunked his head on the door, knowing that Jongin was right there.

“I love you, Kyungsoo,” Jongin said, breathily. He sounded like he was crying.

“You know I love you too,” Kyungsoo replied, tears spilling over. Then the weight was gone, just like that. He felt it in his heart, a cavity that ached for Jongin when he wasn’t near. He was gone, for real this time, and until he came back, Kyungsoo would wait.

When he finally managed to get the door open, he saw streaks of blood all over the walls and floor.

 

 


End file.
